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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29190003">Love Bites</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/UlternateFreak/pseuds/UlternateFreak'>UlternateFreak</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Your Love's Got Me Lookin' So... [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alley Sex, Bi-Curiosity, Cheating, F/M, Gay Harley Keener, Gay Panic, Hurt Harley Keener, Hurt Peter Parker, Love Confessions, Love Triangles, Love/Hate, M/M, Messy, Minor Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Peter Parker is a Mess, Semi-Public Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 03:29:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,427</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29190003</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/UlternateFreak/pseuds/UlternateFreak</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In the back of his mind, Peter knows that this entire ordeal is even more idiotic than asking Harley on a date. Possibly even more deranged than having had fucked Harley in the first place. And yet-...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harley Keener/Peter Parker, Michelle Jones &amp; Harley Keener, Michelle Jones &amp; Ned Leeds &amp; Peter Parker, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Your Love's Got Me Lookin' So... [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2142984</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Love Bites</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harley is panting beneath him - his eyes screwed shut, and breaths unevenly lapping against his heated skin.</p><p>Each sound - which rebounds and echoes between them - is masked by the soft rattling of the wooden bed frame, and the sounds of the gathered guests still congratulating the happy couple outside.</p><p>If you had told Peter Parker that on the night of Mr. Starks wedding he'd end up losing his virginity, then he'd have scoffed with a prudish and accosted sort of scorching blush. Matched only by the abrupt turn of his heels - the pursuit, and reason, of fleeing the scene and little much else. Yet, there he had been steered - choice made in the matter as he had continued to guide his hips. His dick deeply burrowed into Harley Keener's ass, as if it had always belonged there.</p><p>And it had felt good - terribly exceptional - the way they had slotted together like a perfectly aligned puzzle - the way in which Harley had curled around him, taking every inch - and peppering light kisses to his reddening skin. And especially - <em>especially</em> - the beautiful noises that Harley had gifted him with each of his forward thrusts.</p><p> </p><p>"I've missed you," he had told the older blond, the words minutely repeated, this time as his tongue had decided to lap against Harley's skin. Tasting of sweat, and of a pure, and satisfying, kind of otherness that surely must of been the taste of his very own flesh.</p><p>"Harder, Pete-"</p><p>Hearing his own name - said in resounding ecstasy, and heated demands - had only thrilled him further. Especially as it had cinched into his skin - the other taking a bite of his bare shoulder, in turn forcing Peter to frame the back of Harley's head with his arms. Fingers digging, and nails fastening, into the roots of dirty blond curls.</p><p>"I've missed you so fucking much-"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>That night had taken residence nearly half a year ago. The memory forever etched into Peter's body - like a mold - the ghost of teeth never quite hidden where his left shoulder met his neck.</p><p>And it, by no means, had been his one and only sort of sexual escapade.</p><p>He had spent the night - a few nights actually - by now with Michelle, they're gradual step taken sometime earlier that Summer, on the cusp of Harley's graduation. But it hadn't been the same - not to the extent of that memory.</p><p>Sure, it had been special - in a way that every time with a new partner might very well be. And Michelle had cherished him - had praised and marveled his accomplishments even - muttering sweet nothings against him as Harley had done that night. Her face radiant, and sweet - hair smelling of rich cocoa butter - unlike Harley, who had burned of earth and ferns. But that feral, and animalistic, torture that had carried him over to fruition at the cabin by the lake had been nonexistent with her.</p><p>Still, he had been satisfied by bedding her - and there relationship had only grown into something much more grounded and true.</p><p>He <em>had</em> loved her - he loved her - he <em>did</em> love her.</p><p>She understood him in a way that most people hadn't. Be it by her acceptance of who he was, and the life he led - or the mere fact that she saw beneath his facades just as well as she was able to hold together her own.</p><p>And yet there the 'as Harley' or 'unlike Harley' had continued to be whispered each time. If not by way of his own thoughts - then by those who had continued to remind him of the other in his waking life.</p><p> </p><p>"So how's Harley doing?" Ned asks on a non-particular afternoon. With Peter having just sat down besides both Michelle and Betty - lunch tray loosely in hand, and a single textbook carried beneath that.</p><p>"Uh," he eloquently starts, "not sure - I haven't..."</p><p>"Oh," his bestfriend mutters, a light flush adorning his face as he begins to try and backpedal, "thought you were on speaking terms again- sorry."</p><p>"Its fine," he says. "Really."</p><p>"Yeah," Michelle begins, " they ain't mortal foes or anything. He's good by the way-"</p><p>To which - "what-?"</p><p>"Who's what?" She asks, ignoring the side eye, looking mainly to her fork of freshly cut fruit.</p><p>"How would you know that?" Peter clarifies.</p><p>"I talk to him?"</p><p>"You do?" He asks.</p><p>"Not daily or anything - but to catch up here and there-"</p><p>"Oh..."</p><p> </p><p>"Which is not a big deal," Betty thusly adds, smiling in innocent objection, "same here, after all. It's Harley - he's like the cooler - older - cousin."</p><p>"Exactly," Michelle nods - though it reads falsely. Her eyes finally giving way to Peter, and his troubling frown. "Is that alright?" And though a clear question, the bothered-ness is there - eclipsed and in subtext of becoming a problem should he actually be having an issue with such a non-important thing.</p><p>"No," he lies, "none whatsoever."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He had left him in the morning.</p><p>The shame staining his cheeks, and hair wildly unkempt - with the smell of sex hanging about the air in the room.</p><p>It had scared him, in truth - waking up to Harley's naked body besides his own, the memories coming to him like several slaps in the face. Far more damaging than any actual punch his alter ego had ever been given.</p><p>He had cheated on Michelle - had fucked one of his best friends even - at least, they had been close to becoming something of the sort before... Before what exactly?</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"You started dating MJ and-"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"You dated Harry first-"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"What does that matter?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I doesn't, but then it does..."</em>
</p><p> </p><p>He hasn't seen Harley since the last failed attempt in talking to him. His stupidity convincing him to ask Harley out - not on a date per se, but rather a mutual outing - which only read much like a date after the other had stormed out on him.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"I'm leaving you."</em>
</p><p> </p><p>He hadn't ever seen Harley look so broken before. Usually the other held himself in a cool, and prideful, manner - smile inclined and honest, a light in an otherwise dull and graying world.</p><p>He had loved that smile from the very start. Had been drawn to the not at all perfect set of teeth - down to every chip and slight crook of his mouth.</p><p>In all his years, Peter hadn't ever felt such an inclination for someone. The need to be seen, and heard, more important than anything that came before it - or him. He had done his hardest to fight for his attention - had been adamant in being his best self. Be it by politeness, his witty charm, or even the simple task of making the other teen laugh.</p><p>Not until after, had Peter subjected himself to the meaning of the whys. The questions always there, of course - but either ignored or completely ignorant to his own attentions.</p><p>He had craved Harley before having ever tasted him. Had yearned to feel before ever getting permission to touch.</p><p>If anything at all, the fact that he had been pining so hard for another boy - <em>man</em> - had been the true catalyst as to why he had fled that morning.</p><p>He had been afraid to see Harley's eyes - to see his own reflection nestled there, and have to face what such a thing meant to him. To who, and what, he was.</p><p>He, Peter Parker, had been - <em>was</em> - in love with two people. In two different ways. For different reasons that did not overlap well - nor did they both measure and calculate evenly to properly distribute between.</p><p>To have one, meant to lose the other.</p><p>So he had opted then - firstly - to hide away from any signs of a sexual crisis, thinking it all a fluke. A misjudgment brought on by weak alcohol - and a night of thrilling excitement at having been given his friend back.</p><p>But then...</p><p> </p><p>"I miss you."</p><p>"We've been through this," Harley states, his person being shadowed by the fire escape that Peter is currently perched upon.</p><p>Only it isn't Peter Parker in any imaginable sense, but rather Spiderman - with his head bent and legs crouched onto an iron bar.</p><p>"I mean it-"</p><p>"And I meant what I said," Harley says, staring up at him from beneath a heated glare.</p><p>And he looks every bit as handsome as Peter had always thought him to be. Since first he had caught a glimpse of the blond curls over a monitor feed.</p><p>"You cant keep doing this, Peter-"</p><p>"But I miss you-" He repeats.</p><p>"That isn't enough."</p><p> </p><p>He's keening close, despite the sighs and the slump to his shoulders, his school bag tossed over his person.</p><p>He's gotten a hair cut as well.</p><p> </p><p>"...how are classes going?"</p><p>He snorts, "really? Ya wanna chat - should we get some coffee or something?"</p><p>"Okay-"<br/>"No," Harley sighs anew, "that was a joke - an unfunny one." He pauses, then - "they're going fine-"</p><p>"What are you taking-?"</p><p>"What do you want?"</p><p>"I already said," Peter says.<br/><br/></p><p>Harley only stares in disbelief as the masked figure clambers down - landing on the large dumpster just beneath the access windows of the apartment buildings they're hiding between.</p><p> </p><p>"So you do realize that a back alley is one of the most cliché places for a superhero to loiter, right?" He then asks, stepping closer to Peter and away from the open road, "just one below a roof top-"</p><p>"Most alleyways are-"</p><p>"Yeah," he laughs - weakly, and without much real humor, "ya need to get a new hobby," he says - "I can feel your eyes on me - and I'm not just talking about today-"</p><p>"Just a friendly neighborhood Spiderman-"</p><p>"A stalker is what you mean."</p><p>"You changed your number-"</p><p>"Clearly for a reason."</p><p>"It's the closest I can get to being with you then," Peter says, sitting onto the dumpster this time around. His legs crossing as he leans onto his forearms. "I miss you."</p><p>"Yeah, I got that-," Harley absently nods.</p><p>He looks to the watch wrapped about his wrist then - a gift that Tony had given him upon his graduation. Stark tech - and nearly worth thousands, possibly even millions of dollars. "But nothings changed here. You're still with MJ-"</p><p>"I'm in love with you-"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"...what?"</p><p>"I'm in love with you," Peter repeats, "I can't do this, Harls - I keep thinking that I can, by just staying away but-"</p><p>"You can't say that," Harley finally interrupts. Glare fully intact as before. "I don't - I cant hear this-"</p><p>"Why-?"</p><p>"Because you have a girlfriend!" He shouts, "you chose her, Peter - <em>her</em>. D-do - do you have any idea how much that hurts? How much you hurt me every time you try coming back just to leave again?"</p><p>"But I'm not-"</p><p>"No," he says, "you're not. You... God, I wish I could hate you. Ya know that? I wish you'd just..."</p><p>His words had trailed out, sputtering into shallow breaths that Harley needed to make in order to keep his temper from flaring out further.</p><p>He doesn't want to keep yelling - doesn't want to hurt himself by way of making Peter hurt by his own words.</p><p> </p><p>"Harley," he tries again - softly, and insecure. His mask being the only saving grace by hiding away his own features. "...you're wrong - I do know how that feels."</p><p>"...how could you possibly-?"</p><p>"I hated you and Harry together," he answers in earnest. Tone clipped, and laced in temporal anger. "Maybe I hadn't understood it then - not completely, but - seeing you guys... It really pissed me off-"</p><p>"That," Harley begins, "that doesn't-"</p><p>"It doesn't," Peter agrees, "nothing about this makes sense. You - me - I wasn't supposed to fall in love with you. I truly believe that. But every time I saw you smiling at him, or laughing with him - I just - I wanted to punch him in the face. Because - I wanted - <em>I</em> <em>want</em> - your attention, Harls. I need it. I need it so bad that it fucking hurts-"</p><p><br/><br/>Peter's mask is displaced in an instant - with Harley's hands desperate as they fold and card through his damp hair - pulling him in, and kissing him for everything he's worth and everything he has the ability to destroy.<br/><br/>He's crying, Peter can tell - and he says so, but the other opens his mouth and shoves his tongue into his throat. Dominating and reprimanding - and ceasing any further talk over the matter.</p><p><br/><br/>And the kiss is entirely gross - and messy, and they're both groaning and petting - hands scathing and bruising.</p><p>Its ugly.</p><p> </p><p>"P-please," Harley half moans and groans himself, the tears still falling in heavy rivets down his face. And Peter, by now, is a mess in himself - a trail of spit dribbling down his own lips, and snot beginning to seep from deep within his nostrils.</p><p>"I miss you," he repeats through his own wrecked sobs, "I miss you so fucking much."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/><br/>Peter is panting - his eyes barely skewed open, with a small collection of tears - a fine mixture of both pain and pleasure - settling upon his lashes.</p><p>He feels entirely full - in a sort of completion that is both unbearable and necessary, a feeling he hadn't ever suspected that he had needed until now.</p><p> </p><p>"More," he demands, his fingers tugging - possibly tearing at Harley's shirt and jacket. The force of strength pulling the blond closer. "P-please - harder-"</p><p> </p><p>He's losing yet another piece of himself to the older teen. This time, behind a disgusting dumpster that seems to accommodate their abrasive turn of events - an unfortunate, though at the moment, uncared for detail.</p><p> </p><p>"I love you," Harley bites, this time into his right shoulder. Forever completing, and complimenting, the ghost that had lingered there upon his left since last they had fed into one another.</p><p><br/><br/>"Take this off," Peter ignores him, his ordering about continuous as his hands tightly fist the cotton layers separating them.<br/><br/>And it's only fair of him to ask, with his own person being stark naked - the Spiderman suit having proved too constrictive with their game at hand.<br/><br/>"You're so fucking needy," the other then weakly laughs, the shedding of his shirt proving effortless - as if a magic trick in and of itself. And Peter immediately coils and claws like a cat on pristine furniture, his nails working to tear at the unblemished skin. His teeth grinding into a halt as Harley slams his dick into him once more.</p><p> </p><p>In the back of his mind, he knows that this entire ordeal is even more idiotic than asking Harley on a date. Possibly even more deranged than having had fucked Harley in the first place. And yet-</p><p><br/><br/>"I love you, too-" Peter clambers.</p>
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